When We Dream
by Icestorm926
Summary: After Sburb is over, the trolls have been living in peace for a few months. That is, until Aranea decides there is one more thing for them to do: meet their ancestors. And despite her high expectations, it isn't all rainbows and butterflies.
1. Prologue: Sometimes

**Prologue: Sometimes**

How do you live with a crippling depression?

How do you deal with a hatred that is so deep it is imbedded in your identity?

How do you handle regretting something that can never be forgiven?

How can you continue to breathe when the being you loathe most is yourself?

How do you know that you deserve happiness too?

How do you reverse insanity?

How do you see past your own arrogance?

How can you find the truth behind the cruel phantoms?

How do you stop blaming yourself for what you could never have avoided?

How do you allow yourself to trust?

How do you come to terms with the fact you are complete and utter scum?

How can you reconcile two contradicting parts that were never meant to agree (and how do you come to terms with the guilt that EVERY SINGLE THING is your fault)?

Set in your ways, knowing exactly who you are, yet also knowing nothing. A contradiction in itself.

Wishing that it would end, because there's nothing to live for, but being deathly afraid of not existing anymore.

Trying to find a solution that does not exist.

Realizing the simple fact that you will never be content again.

There is no resolution for you. Not today, not tomorrow, and definitely not ever. You will be forced to be alone for the rest of your days. Solitude. Isolation. You and your memories are your only companions.

But . . .

But what if there was hope?

It's a hypothetical situation, because no hope exists here, but . . .

What if there was something you could do to fill this void? What if there was road you could take to resolve these problems? Wouldn't you take that road, make that choice?

(But what if it gets worse? What if I'm already comfortable in the messed-up settings of my life? What if my problem is the only thing that's keeping me going? What if what I want is not something I can have? What if I cannot handle a world where I'm not miserable?)

Wouldn't the risk of failure be worth it?

Sometimes it's surprising how often the answer is no.

It's also surprising how often others don't care that you don't want help.

Sometimes people do things because it's the right thing to do, sometimes they do things because they're for their own gain, and sometimes they do things without even noticing the effect they have.

Sometimes, someone will be miserable no matter what they do or what they say.

But sometimes . . .

Sometimes, despite what they might say, everyone can be happy.

_Sometimes._


	2. Part 1: Karkles, Stop Being so Rude!

**A/N: This chapter is the second draft, as I don't think the original was up to my standards. I hope you enjoy my fic and all that good stuff! :)**

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**Part 1: Karkles, Stop Being so Rude!**

Aradia wasn't quite sure what Aranea was planning. She had never pegged her as a troll who kept secrets, or was secretive at all. She was open and honest and genuinely tried to help those she knew.

When she had asked for Aradia's help months ago in traveling between dream bubbles (as a resident of a bubble, Aranea could not exit them without Aradia's help until she and Sollux discovered a loophole God Tier-level players could use to bypass this obstacle) Aradia had thought nothing of it. Aranea was nearly as enthusiastic as she was about the bubbles, and now that the game was over, she had free time to help the spidertroll in exploring. They had become close, in fact. They met nearly every day when Aradia went to sleep. It was fun to share with someone all the secrets she had discovered.

Then when she fell asleep today, Aranea was waiting for her in her dream bubble and asked if she could gather all the trolls together. When Aradia tried to inquire to the reason, Aranea laughed and said, "You'll see soon enough."

How could she say no? So here she was, arguing with a disgruntled Karkat and searching the Furthest Ring for any signs of Sollux, since apparently he had decided to explore it today. It was frustrating to say the least, but she handled these problems with a easy smile. She was rather glad for the conflict. It kept the days from becoming monotonous.

Sollux and herself were the last to arrive at Aranea's bubble, and while he drifted over to Feferi, she stayed put, slightly apart from the crowd. She could join Equius and Nepeta, but no, she might as well give the moirails some peaceful time together to mull over Aranea's announcement. Speaking of which . . .

"Hello everyone! How have you been?"

There was a collection of grumbles and unintelligible comments, none of which Aranea could catch. If she had been fishing for a real answer, she would have been sorely disappointed. Not to be discouraged, she grinned at the small crowd, combing over every individual face.

It had taken some dubious methods obviously, because everything with the game was a mystery and a riddle and an enigma rolled into one, but each pair of eyes she met was bright and alive. She alone had the whitened-out eyes of the dead. It had taken much sacrifice - Aradia's empty, sightless gaze and Karkat's robotic limbs were a testament to that - yet they were all together in the land of the living again. She was not sure if they changed for the better. It was hard to tell, what with being trapped here and watching their actions from a distance. However, they did seem happier, and her ancestor - er, post-scratch replacement? - Vriska, seemed to act more civil towards others. She also spied Equius attempting to suppress a smile at Nepeta's antics, and even as Eridan argued with Kanaya over fashion, he had definitely improved, too.

It was, all in all, an uplifting sight. In the whole group, it appeared that there was only one that wanted to ruin the light-hearted atmosphere. Not surprising, given who it was.

"Why the hell are we here?" Karkat growled, crossing his arms and glaring daggers at Aranea. He was careful not to completely blow up. After all, his dream bubble visits were filled with vicious, painful memories that he would rather forget. Anything was better than watching his teammates being murdered, or racing through the lab with honks echoing in his ears. He wasn't about to ruin perfectly good peace and quiet by running his mouth. Or, he might, but he wouldn't _mean_ to ruin it.

"Karkles, stop being so rude!" Terezi berated him, frowning disapprovingly and readying her cane for a well-deserved drubbing. She didn't care if his reasons for acting brash were justified, there was no cause to be mean to Aranea. Sometimes, it seems like he was trying to burn all of their bridges. Thankfully, he grumbled a few more obscenities and fell silent.

The spectacled spider girl laughed his foul language off and began her speech. "It's been quite a while since I last saw all of you together. The last time being-"

"Dear gog, if you breathe a single word about that, I will be walking away," Karkat interrupted, pointing accusingly at the troll. "Horrorterrors be damned, I am not listening to a brilliant retelling of how friendship and determination prevails and how everyone lives happily ever after on a desolate shithole of a planet." When he was finished, he narrowed his gaze and stared at Tavros, Equius, Nepeta, and Feferi in turn, then letting his head fall into his metal hands. Thanks to the mention of that particular day, he was now nursing a pounding migraine and trying to ignore the phantom pains in his arms and legs. This time around, no one raised their voice to correct his unpleasant behavior. None of them were eager to bring that subject up, leaving the room in tense silence.

Aranea, feeling this meeting going downhill already as everyone began to shift into feelings jam mode, quickly moved on. "I've gathered you together today so I might tell you of a highly exciting opportunity! You see, I have been constantly in search of a certain set of dream bubbles. I've been pretty lucky actually, though I did have some unwitting help." She paused a moment to wink at Aradia, who seemed to be experiencing an epiphany. "A short while ago, I finally located the last of these dream bubbles and I'm ready to announce . . ." She paused for effect, causing Karkat to peek at her from between his fingers and several others to lean forward expectantly. "From now on, you can speak with your ancestors!" Her face split into a wide grin. "All you need to do is speak with Aradia or myself and we can-"

As she tried to elaborate, she was cut off again by a certain crabby troll. "Why should we give a shit about them?" Karkat spat. A few months ago, he would've been protesting against the existence of their predecessors altogether, but after many conversations featuring endless proof given to him from several trolls, he had admitted that it made sense, and had reluctantly learned that his ancestor was the fabled Sufferer. Secretly, he was both pissed and astonished by this revelation. He felt both honored and cheated. He never wanted to be related to someone so . . . prestigious. The Sufferer had been the epitome of benevolence, equality, decency, everything good in the world, while Karkat . . . Damn, he couldn't unite a group of twelve let alone a following of millions.

Stupid gogdamn nookstain of a saint. Why did he have to have an ancestor that made him seem like even more of an ignorant, pushy douchenugget?

Aranea frowned. "I believe it could be a wonderful learning experience for all of you. To face the facts, you are them. You are your ancestor, and they, in turn, are you. Or rather . . ." She pulled a sour face, wondering if she should break the news now or later. She sighed and shook her head, reminding herself to bring it up at a later point. "Nevermind that. Both of you have grown under different circumstances, but you are the same deep down in your heart of hearts. You can learn from each other, become better for it. What do you say?"

"This is an amazing idea," Vriska praised, lips spread into a dangerous smirk. "When can I meet Mindfang?" She was nearly shaking with excitement, imagining her idol in the living - well not living but close enough - breathing flesh. What a dream come true. She could test her powers, swap stories, and perhaps inquire about the nature of her death and how it came about. There were so many things to talk about, it was dizzying. The Marquise . . . She could actually meet the Marquise Spinneret Mindfang.

"Soon, I suppose. Not tonight," Aranea answered, not paying her full attention to Vriska and ignoring her complaint of "Whaaaaaaaat? I can't see her now? Lame!" and focusing on the others' reactions.

Some of them were joining in on the excitement. Eridan and Terezi were celebrating profusely, similiar to Vriska, both imagining and wishing the same things Vriska had. Tavros was nervous at the thought of the Summoner, although he was terribly excited at the same time. The Summoner was so much better than him. He was brave and courageous and had the drive to lead a revolution. He couldn't see how he could ever help someone already so perfect.

Meanwhile, some were cringing at the idea of meeting their ancestors. Feferi was shivering at the mere thought of Her Imperious Condescension, and Aradia was grimacing as she reviewed what she knew of the Handmaid - or "the Demoness" as she was known in some texts - and recalled the known mythology surrounding her. Both the Condesce and the Handmaid were figureheads of death and destruction across the land, and in the Condesce's case, across two universes. They were not bright prospects. Sollux was also not looking forward to a future meeting with his ancestor. He did not particularly care about the Psiioniic, but something was telling him it was a bad idea. His gut feeling told him he would not like what he found.

Finally, the last few of the group were neutral for the most part, or barely leaned one way more than the other. Nepeta and Equius were already discussing the matter, the pros and cons of agreeing and disagreeing. They both knew very little of the E%ecutor Darkleer and the Disciple, respectively, so their acknowledgement of the news was minimal. Their curiosity, however, was piqued. Likewise, Kanaya was pleased . . . Well, perhaps "interested" would be a more appropriate word. Yes, she was interested in learning about the mysterious Dolorosa. Lastly, Gamzee had always been in too much of a haze to ever learn anything about the Grand Highblood beyond his name, but something told him the encounter would have one of two possible outcomes. He would either hate him, which was a strange, unused emotion in his world, or he would get along with his forbearer just fine. He decided he'd be cool with meeting him if the chance came about.

From the expressions of the majority of the group, most were at least open to the idea. Only Karkat and Feferi were showing complete opposition, and Feferi was already beginning to come around to it. (Maybe by seeing the Condesce's cruelty she could strengthen her own kindness.)

"So . . . your thoughts?" Aranea questioned tentatively.

Surprisingly, Tavros was the first to speak up. "I, uh, think it's . . . great," he replied quietly, blushing slightly as Karkat's glare fell on him.

"Toreadork is right," Vriska agreed gleefully, clapping the shy boy on the back. "For once in his life." She smirked at him, causing his blush to deepen to a darker shade of bronze and his gaze to drop to the ground in embarrassment. "Who knows, maybe the Summoner can give you some resemblance of a backbone."

"Y-yeah," he murmured.

"I also approve of this endeavor. Count me in," Kanaya put in, knowing full-well she would be left behind in the conversation soon and might as well add her two cents to the discussion.

Karkat snorted in disgust. "You fuckasses aren't actually considering this are you?" he said angrily, staring at each of them. "No, no, this is complete hoofbeast shit. Why are even entertaining this idiotic notion? There's nothing to gain! I'd rather be torn limb from limb again and left out during the daylight hours to burn like a fucking fillet than see that bulgemunching asswipe that I have the displeasure to call my ancestor."

With that eloquent statement delivered, he was met with several glowering gazes. As Terezi opened her mouth to initiate an arguement, Aranea swiftly cut in and diffused the situation. "Not all of you have to agree to this. I would need for at least half of you to support it so I'm not wasting my time, of course. Not that I don't have a lot of that to waste anyway." She chuckled nervously and glanced around. "Who wants to go along with it? Raise your hand."

Almost instantly, Vriska, Eridan, Terezi, and Nepeta raised their hands. After a moment's contemplation, Kanaya, Equius, and Tavros followed suit. It took some more consideration, but Sollux shrugged and raised his hand as well. Gamzee was too deep in thought to notice the voting taking place, while Feferi was still a bit too off-put by the thought of the Condesce. Aradia was making a vague hand gesure in Aranea's direction, almost a silent "I'll explain later". The only other person that didn't raise their hand was Karkat, and he was obviously so opposed to this proposition that, as he iterated earlier, he'd rather have all of his limbs taken away than meet the Sufferer.

Pleased with the overall result, although befuddled by Aradia's reaction, Aranea clapped her hands together. "Thank you! Thank you so much! This is such an amazing opportunity. Aradia, can you still do me a favor?"

Aradia nodded. "Where are their bubbles?"

Aranea shook her head. "Oh no, it's too late to do any visiting tonight. We can begin tomorrow, so you have your entire night to speak with them. Also, I want to warn them of your arrival before your visit." She tilted her head upwards, white eyes searching the sky. "I suppose I should go do that then. Will you assist me, Aradia?" Silently, the red-clothed troll strolled over, and they disappeared into a different bubble.

As soon as they were gone, the remaining trolls broke into excited chatter.

"This is quite an interesting proposition," Equius murmured absently, fingering the thick scar tissue that circled his neck.

"AC purrs and laughs at her meowrail, saying, 'Interesting? Purrhaps you are thinking the same as me? This sounds like a pawfully great adventure!'" Nepeta crawled into Equius's lap and flung her arms around his neck, giggling and hugging her friend fiercely.

Equius resisted the urge to roll his eyes like an immature wriggler, but nodded at her statement. "For once, I believe you are right." To this, Nepeta replied by giving him another hug and letting loose another peal of giggles. "After all, I believe Darkleer was an archer. An extremely STRONG role, if I do say myself."

"'And the Disciple was an especially fierce huntress,' AC adds, finding this whole thing _furry_ exciting."

As the morails mused over this new adventure, Terezi was unsuccessfully trying to persuade Karkat into giving the ancestor proposal a try. After an especially vicious barrage of profanities and a few mumbled curses about some bitter preacher, she huffed and whirled around to talk with the two closest trolls, Sollux and Feferi. As she walked away, Karkat mentally kicked himself and buried deeper into self-loathing. His past self was acting shittier and shittier lately, and his future self was not helping one fucking bit.

Sollux and Feferi were sitting on the edge of the crowd, stargazing. "I don't think meeting him is a good thing," he said, referring to the Psiioniic. As he talked, he tilted his head up to watch the sky, caught up in the way his brain was filtering the sight. Being half-blind, but also having lost the mutated red and blue of his eyes, his vision was far stranger than it had been before the game. It wasn't an unwelcome change, but a weird one nevertheless. "I have a bad feeling about it."

Feferi nodded in agreement. "I know what you mean. I mean, glub, the Condesce herself? She is not what you would call an angelfish!"

At the appearance of the fishy pun, they both smiled a little, getting lost in a bit of silent reminiscing. When Terezi plopped down beside them, they both jumped, Sollux nearly jumping out of his skin as he was yanked out of the past. He cursed under his breath and sighed. After all these months, he still hadn't fully mastered being half-blind. It was incredibly disappointing how easily he could be snuck up on.

The Seer cackled and prodded his shoulder. "Scared?"

He simply snorted. "Whatever, TZ. Any answer I give will result in you cackling like a deranged hyena."

"What's a hyena?" Feferi interjected, blinking in confusion.

He shrugged. "Some sort of species of barkbeast that lives on the plains or something." He waited until after she responded to swivel back to Terezi. "So what are you thinking about this ancestor business? I bet you're looking forward to seeing - or smelling, or however the hell you get around - your ancestor, Cherryglare." When she tilted her head in annoyance, he sighed. "Oh come on, you act as if I actually know her name."

Instead of breaking out into a grin as he expected, she frowned. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "It's going to be fun, I can tell, but I wonder if she's as great as I'm imagining her. She's still a troll after all, with weaknesses like us. In fact, she_ is _me, even if she is a different version. Or at least I think so. I can never tell anymore, I keep detecting this strange wave of deceit from Aranea whenever she-"

"Terezi!" Feferi laughed. "You're rambling just like Kanaya!"

At that, she broke into her wide, razor-sharp, crocodile grin. "I guess I am. But nevertheless, it should be interesting, no matter what happens." She cackled to herself and stuck her tongue for a sweep of the field, checking where everyone was positioned. "No use fussing over it anymore tonight. Tomorrow is the day for fussing, meddling, and the like." Her restless tongue flicked over the lenses of her delicious red glasses, then retreated into her mouth once more.

"I can't wait," Sollux replied sarcastically, his tone a complete flat line. In response, Terezi cackled wildly and marched away, twirling her cane. As she went, he rolled his remaining eye. "Nutcase."


	3. Part 2: Lingering in the Past

**A/N: I'm redoing these initial chapters because they're not my best work. The first chapter is done being redone, but this one is not. I made this before I really delved into the Ancestors' personalities, so any inconsistencies you find between what I describe here and what you find in later chapters is most likely do to this. I'm working on fixing this chapter and the finishing the next chapter, so it's taking a bit longer than expected! I hope you bear with me.**

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Part 2: Lingering In the Past

Aranea wasn't totally sure why the ancestors had dream bubbles. Before she had discovered the Psiioniic's chamber, she had believed that only certain people, such as doomed timeline characters and the alpha versions themselves, could have their own dream bubble. However, these predecessors could be special exceptions to this rule.

She had two main theories. The first was that since these predecessors were post-scratch versions of herself and her team, they were given bubbles. The stronger of her hypotheses was that the reason was due to some paradoxical fluke they hadn't gotten to yet. Sgrub might be over, but the paradoxes were still popping up left and right like an annoying, recurring headache.

She was far past caring about paradoxes however.

She had met every ancestor personally now. She had watched their lives, safe in her afterlife, yet there was something humbling about meeting them in the flesh. She often compared notes of her old team to these people and usually found little difference. The biggest difference was between she and Mindfang, though she could find bits of herself in that tough shell of a woman, such as the way she rambled and spoke quite nicely. Much nicer than Vriska at least.

(It took a short while after her meeting with the post-scratch trolls to realize she had given them the wrong impression of their ancestors. While there were similiarities between them, the ancestors were actually different versions of the pre-scratch trolls such as Aranea. She supposed she would have to remedy that soon, lest they come to the wrong conclusions.)

As for the other ancestors . . . Most were highly volatile and capricious, such as the Grand Highblood. He was, for the lack of a more suitable definition, a madman, who tinkered with his insanity like it was some sort of plaything. He was the most frightening of the ancestors by far, and Aranea often wondered why she continued to visit him.

The Psiioniic was somewhat similiar to Highblood, although he was merely bipolar and self-loathing. He constantly berated himself for the decisions he made in life and often went into rants about his intense hatred for the Condesce. It was actually sort of funny as long as he didn't catch on to you laughing.

The more companionable of the ancestors included the Summoner, who enjoyed to play any sort of game with her to pass the time. He often told stories about his rebellion and how he had become acquainted with Mindfang. He had some amazing abilities, but when he was praised he shrugged it off and became flustered, even stuttering a little. It was rather adorable and reminded her of Nitram, but she tried to remind herself those thoughts were creepy since the Summoner was older than her (physically at least).

The Disciple was another friendly one, despite her deep-set issues. She drew pictures and joked around and was an all-around gentle and kind troll. Once, she tried to explain why she slipped into the past and pretended that she was not living in a cave alone. She said that when the Sufferer had died and her other friends were torn away from her it was much easier to escape into better times. "I suppose that means I'm crazy, but at least I am not giving up on life, be it the afterlife or not."

The Summoner and Disciple might be kind, but Aranea had to admit that she enjoyed the E%ecutor's company better. Unlike the Psiioniic or the Sufferer who were bitter about their choices in life, Darkleer was instead riddled with indecision and depression. When he not working, he would often just hold his head in his hands murmuring, "Was it worth it? Was it worth it?" On several occasions she was tempted to tell him about Equius and Nepeta to soothe him, but she decided that was something best left for Equius himself to say. She didn't enjoy it when he went into depressions, so like Mindfang before her, she often asked him to build things. When he worked he could focus on the positive and allowed himself to smile and talk endlessly. His soft voice and the gentle way in which he spoke was nearly a melody and it only took a few days with him for Aranea to remember why she had that short infatuation for Zahhak back in the day.

Similiarly, the Handmaid and Dualscar reminded her why she disliked both Megido and Ampora. The Handmaid was cagey and too confident in her vast abilities, although they were as impressive as she boasted. She was too bossy and paranoid and would never give you a straight answer. It was immensely frustrating, and her naturally sour, negative personality did nothing to increase her appeal. Dualscar was slightly different. He was too full of himself, believed he could withstand any threat with ease. He was arrogant and was one of those annoying people who held grudges and exacted revenge. Aranea might be able to put with Meenah and her violent nonsense, but when it came to the Handmaid and the Orphaner, she could barely stand them.

Speaking of Meenah, the Condesce was the hardest of the ancestors to find, because Aranea couldn't use the Alpha Condesce's bubble. When the Condesce had died, she had apparently gone bonkers. When Aranea found the her bubble, she was nearly gutted by her trident. She had attempted to reason with the estranged empress, but all the Condesce saw was a threat to be annihilated. So Aranea had to backtrack through time and doomed timelines to find a more suitable ancestor.

It had taken longer than she would have liked, but she had succeeded. This Condesce was much more amicable in her own fierce way. In this timeline Her Imperial Condescension had no recollection of the post-scratch trolls or any of the humans, though she did comment that there were two pesky humans alive on Earth. In their first conversation, Aranea was struck by how close the Condesce was to Meenah. Their personalities were so utterly similiar, it was as if she was talking to an older version of her friend. It was hard to come to terms with and she could only take solace in the fact that the Condesce was so much crueler than she believed Meenah to be capable of. It wasn't a great comfort, but it was better than nothing.

Besides the negative influences of the Condesce, Dualscar, and others, some of the ancestors were actually quite upbeat. Mindfang was nearly always cheerful, sometimes to the point that it was slightly off-putting. Neophyte Redglare was also bright. She was naturally optimistic, yet completely truthful with what she believed, be it good or bad. Like Terezi and Aranea's Pyrope, Redglare had a strong sense of justice and was a bit eccentric. She was a bit wild and always had time to mock of something. She was blind and saw with the same method Terezi used, except her's was much more sharper and defined. Also, Redglare wasn't quite so ready to lick anyone's face as Terezi was. She was refined in a way with a simple elegance. Despite her open attitude, she seemed to have a slight buffer around herself, keeping her true personality out of everyone's reach, as if she didn't want to be attached to anyone, lest she lose them later on.

The Dolorosa attempted to do the same thing, except her personality was too kind, too motherly, to keep anyone out for long. She was a bit overbearing at points, but she tried her best to keep other's interests before her own. While she was motherly, she was also frustratingly mysterious and secretive, preferring a silent, unbreakable facade of indifference. She cared for many of the people she knew, yet rarely showed the true depth of her feelings. It was a strange, double-edged personality.

And finally, there was the Sufferer. Aranea had attempted to call him the Signless, but he protested this, arguing he was no longer signless. The two circles connected by arching lines was his sign, and his descendant's sign. "I merely a sufferer now, unless you'd prefer to call me the Mutant." When he had said this, he gave her a hatred-filled glare, showing how much contempt he had for that label.

The Sufferer was a very contradicting person. On one hand, he hated every single soul on Alternia, held a deep grudge against them for letting the hemospectrum blind them and violence control their actions. He genuinely wished for them to go fuck themselves for all the vile corruption in their hearts and was bitter about how he had been punished for attempting to help them.

Yet on the other hand, he loved his people and would do anything for them. Despite his deep-set contempt, he had hope that in the future Alternians could turn their lifes around and rid themselves of the corruption on their planet.

It was among the strangest of contradictions, and he admitted to himself it made no sense. Nevertheless, it was how he believed, and "the world better fucking deal with it."

It was actually really funny, how a troll of his occupation and maturity would curse in about every sentence. The Sufferer's entire personality was serious and biting, yet somehow, through all the swearing and negativity, you could find the true nicety beneath. He admitted that when he was alive he was much nicer but had always been a bit of a grump. She spent the most time with the Sufferer. There was something about him, almost mysterious in a way, that made her want to know him, especially when he told her a few of his sermons.

He was strange. He was hopeless yet hopeful. Hating yet caring. Polite yet extremely rude. When she asked him why he continued to hope, he replied, "As long as someone, be it one out of billions, has hope for a better future, then there is a chance my efforts will not be in vain."

It was at that statement that Aranea decided she could never tell him of his planet's destruction, and that all that remained of their race was twelve trolls with no mother grub left to speak of. She was afraid if she told him, he would lose his faith, and without that . . . She doubted he would want to live anymore.

Aranea was nervous as she visited each ancestor. She suddenly found herself wishing she could round them all together in a single place and announce it as she had done for their descendants. Alas, that option was impossible. For some reason, the ancestors could not leave their individual bubbles and on top of that their bubbles could not move at all except when manipulated by an outside force. This was the reason it had taken so long to find them, and why Aranea had needed advice from Aradia. Aranea was an expert at bubble-hopping, but had needed some especially tricky manuevers to get to some of them.

The Psiioniic was the easiest to find. He had been the first of the twelve ancestors she discovered and they had known each other for several months now, nearly half a sweep if she remembered correctly.

With Aradia's assistance it was easier than ever to slip into the Psiioniic's chamber. It was reminiscient of the ship he had been bonded to for thousands of years with thick cables running across the floor. Quite out of place here in a corner was a desk with large amounts of paper and ink. When she questioned him about it, he smirked. "Long thtory. It'th part of my ever eluthive patht that I won't be telling you about."

Sometimes, he was more secretive than the Dolorosa.

When she arrived in his dream bubble, he was sitting on top of a large mound of cables that dominated most of the room. He was amusing himself by using his psionic powers to create pictures and words in the air, manipulating the colored energy to create a detailed scene before him. He did this often as a way to pass the time, telling epic tales he made up or heard about during his life. When Aranea appeared, the cloud of red and blue dissolved and he gave her a sour look. "Hello."

"Hello Psiioniic," she greeted, dropping to sit beside the massive coils of wire. "I have some news."

"Oh do you," he drawled, seeming disinterested. This must be one of his mellow days where he was bad-tempered instead of completely insensitive. It takes a while, but she explains about his descendant and the others and informs him that Sollux will be arriving in a day or two to meet him. He reacts minimally, but having known him for so long, Aranea can catch how he slightly narrows his eyes in disgust.

"What are you thinking?"

The Psiioniic chuckles coldly doesn't answer for a few minutes, and when he does it isn't a reply to her inquiry. "Don't you have to go thomewhere?"

She wants to stay and interrogate him but he's right. The next few are equally uneventful. They are all slightly surprised to hear of their descendants but don't question her. The Disciple started to giggle and immediately began to draw new pictures on her cave walls when Aranea told her, and she was caught in a surprisingly long conversation with the Summoner about if Mindfang and the others had descendants and if he could meet them as well. She didn't rule the possibility out, but by providing this slight ray of hope, the Summoner began to flying off, obviously too happy for words. He had always regretted killing Mindfang, and if he could meet her descendant, perhaps he could make it up to her he explained.

Mindfang herself laughed at the news and said she'd have to prepare her swords and such so she could put this girl to the test. Redglare basically had the same opinion of Terezi, except she promised that they would mostly be exploring and swapping stories. It was surprising, but almost every ancestor was elated to hear of their descendant. Dualscar and the Grand Highblood were eager to pass on their customs and skills. Actually, Aranea almost didn't tell the Highblood about Gamzee, because what if he influenced the young troll into becoming a full blown tyrant? Gamzee was already unstable as it was . . . She had already promised him however, and she had to hope beyond hope that the outcome would be acceptable.

Even the Condesce was happy with the news, because then she had reassurance that her bloodline had not died out and there was someone to rule over the trolls. She was disgruntled that she was not alive to do this herself, but "I _guess_ I won't hold it against her." The Handmaid said much the same and murmured something about teaching this girl things she could never dream of.

The Dolorosa and Darkleer were overjoyed. As far as Aranea could figure, they were extremely happy that there would be someone else, another companion, for them to spend time with, albeit for a short while.

Aranea saved the Sufferer for last, like she did for every visit she made. Unlike everyone else, he . . .

"I don't want to meet him."

She did a double-take, not believing his words. "What?"

"I don't want to fucking meet him," the Sufferer repeated, glaring at her with his arms crossed.

"Why?"

"Because . . .," he faltered and his glare turned into a grimace. "It is useless. Why should I care? He is . . . No. I will not put him nor myself through this. If that is all you wish to tell me, then kindly fuck off."

Dumbfounded, Aranea did as she was told. In her dream bubble a few hours after the encounter, she attempted to puzzle it out. She finally sighed and stared at the ceiling of her hive. "Why does everyone with the last name Vantas have to been such a jerk?"


	4. Part 3: We're Making This Happen

**A/N:**** I lied, it isn't a short chapter. I really like this chapter for some odd reason. Two of my favorite pairings are in this, so if I got carried away at any point, sorry. This chapter is sort of fluffy-ish, mostly talking about a normal day for the trolls.**

**I hope you enjoy. :)**

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Part 3: We're Making This Happen

It was an hour after the sun set on Alternia, and in a few more hours the trolls would gather together for breakfast. Ever since Sburb had ended they had moved into one huge hive, saying it would be easier and more convenient. Everyone kept their silent, unspoken secret that it wasn't for that reason alone. Solitude . . . was an unsavory option after everything they were put through.

As usual, Karkat was the first to sit at the table. It would be a while until any others woke up, so he put his feet on the edge and leaned back, snatching his sickle and a block of wood from his sylladex. They fell easily into his hands and he began widdling away on the wood block. It was a strange hobby he had learned from John, who had told him about it. These damn blocks of wood were impossible to work with but he was determined to finish one, though every project before this had ended up smashed against a wall.

He growled at the memory and slashed too hard at the wood, nicely decapitating the Scalemate he had been making, and also creating a horrible gash down the inside of his hand. For a moment he stared at the wound, his candy red blood already running along his arm, staining the circuitry. When the artificial pain sensors began going off, his mind clouded and he dropped the rest of the wood and his sickle, not bothering to captchalogue them.

He raced upwards through the gigantic hive until he reached Equius's room. Instead of knocking, Karkat barged in and strode over to where the blue blood was sleeping peacefully in his recuperacoon. Not for long. "Hey wake up asshole! My hand is fucking bleeding. What did you do, make my entire body as fragile as a gogdamn wingbeast?" He continued to rant and rage and even threw in a few kicks until the troll opened his eyes, peering up through the slime.

"Finally!" he grumbled, thrusting his bleeding hand in Equius's face. "I need you to fix this before I fucking bleed out."

It was a good thing that the blue blood was a morning person. If he wasn't, Karkat might have had to add "dislocated jaw" to his injury list, and that wasn't something that Equius could fix with his tools. After cleaning the sopor from his hair and skin and locating and putting his glasses on - accidentally adding another crack with his STRONG fingers - he had Karkat sit in a chair at his workshop which was in the corner of the room. He searched around until he found the correct tools and knelt down beside Karkat, fixing the circuitry he had cut inside of the hand and then fitting the metal together again. He lightly sanded down the area, and the hand was as good as new.

"Thanks," Karkat muttered, flexing his fingers to check they all were working. He tried to avoid insulting the mechanic too much nowadays since he basically controlled whether he could walk or not.

"You are . . . most welcome." Equius kept his gaze downwards, a thin layer of sweat already forming. Before Karkat could berate him, he added, "Is everything else working?"

"Yes."

"May I check?"

Karkat sighed. "Fine."

Smiling slightly, Equius began inspecting and examining the rest of Karkat's mechanical parts.

Both of his arms and legs had been replaced with steel appendages. Karkat was extremely bitter about how he had acquired them, especially because along with those actions, he now had a new nickname. Some of the trolls, usually Vriska or Terezi, called him the Sufferer. How fucking great was that?

He didn't want to admit it, but they were correct. He hadn't wanted others to sacrifice themselves. But that was enough of that. The subject was a sore one.

He focused in on the mechanic who was touching, testing, and rolling his arm, checking to see if everything was in place correctly. The guy was surprisingly gentle and even hummed as he worked. He smirked. He would bet his precious sickles that the idiot had no idea his strength had a subconscious off switch. If he didn't, then he wouln't be able to craft anything or carefully tweak and tighten the bolts in his metal limbs.

_Knowing stuff like this is why I'm the leader, _he thought as the mechanic dropped down to inspect his legs.

He had been creeped out by Equius touching his legs for the first few weeks but he'd been forced to get over it. Plus, this was the only situation when Equius wasn't a huge creeper, too focused on his work to notice the awkward position.

When he was finished, Karkat lurched to his feet and stomped out the door. The mechanic called out a warning, something about not putting too much strain on the joints but it fell on deaf ears. As Karkat headed downstairs to sulk and eat his breakfast, Equius changed into his clothes and went about the normal morning business. When he was finished fixing a door he had ripped off its hinges, he plodded around the hive until finding himself at Nepeta's doorway.

Not trusting himself to knock on the door, he politely called for his moirail. Not a moment later the door flew open and Nepeta had pounced on him, wrapping her tiny frame around him. "Good morning, Equius!" she giggled, grinning up at him. "Are we going to breakfast?"

"Indeed we are. I wished to rouse both you and Aradia before departing to the dining hall," he replied, allowing himself to smile, knowing she would be pleased. She loved it when he smiled and acted friendly to others. Before Sgrub he had been pretty controlling, possessive, and mean to others, but after his death he had been determined to have a Nepeta-esque outlook on life and others. He had done his best to hide his prejudices over blood caste and always attempted to be curteous to everyone, including gutterbloods such as Tavros and Aradia. In fact, ever since he had sought to change, Aradia had welcomed him into her life as her matesprit.

For once, things were pretty good. Sure, he got jealous and possessive when Aradia spoke with her moirail, Sollux, or when Nepeta turned her attentions to Karkat. Some old habits die hard. What mattered was he was surrounded by friends he could care for and protect.

When they woke Aradia, she insisted on rousing Sollux as well. When he scowled, Nepeta patted his head - she had opted sit on his shoulders for the time being - and Aradia gripped his hand, lacing their fingers together. The scowl faded and he conceded.

Waking Sollux led them to wake Feferi and Eridan, which led to Nepeta suggesting they should get Tavros as well. Soon enough, Tavros, Gamzee, Vriska, and Kanaya had joined the group and they were all heading downstairs to eat. They didn't bother checking Terezi's respiteblock, since they all knew she woke up early to annoy Karkat.

Sure enough, downstairs Terezi was scrawling all sorts of illustrations with her treasured red chalk. Actually, this chalk was _extra_ special, because Karkat had begrudgingly gifted it to her on Twelfth Perigree's Eve along with a dark gray Scalemate she had named Threshecutioner Graygrump. Apparently he had been too embarrassed to give it to her directly, so he left it in a hidden corner of her room with a little card that read, "HERES YOUR DAMN PRESENT, I HOPE YOURE HAPPY." On the back of the card was a small heart which revealed his true intentions.

On that day, she had grinned like a lunatic - more than she usually did, of course. Hehehe.

Terezi made a point to carry Graygrump around everywhere and slather red chalk on anything that caught her nose after that, especially if it belonged to Karkat. She even scrawled pictures on his arms when he wasn't paying attention.

All-in-all, annoying Karkat was her number one priority after that gift and through her hard work she had managed to persuade him into roleplaying with her once. She took this as a sign of progress. She was determined to make him less of a grump. She wasn't that successful when he was around the whole group, but privately, when they were alone, she had actually managed to make him smile.

Terezi counted that as a point. Actually, she counted it as six hundred and twelve points because Karkat did not smile for _anything_. Except, apparently, for her.

She peeked up from her drawings to cackle at the nubby-horned troll sitting at the head of the table. He scowled at her and ordered her to shut the hell up. She giggled and began drawing again, babbling on about an imaginary courtcase. She were prone to babbling and despite Karkat's silence, she could smell the slightly annoyed content surrounding him like a soft blanket. It was a uniquely sweet smell with a slight sour edge to it. Besides the cherry red of his blush, it was one of your favorite scents.

After fifteen minutes of soft thumps from upstairs, ten trolls entered the room where you and Karkat were sitting. They were all talking to each other, Vriska's voice in particular louder than the rest. Terezi greeted Nepeta, who slid down from Equius's shoulder to perch on the chair beside the blind girl. The table bustled with each individual hunting around for their favorite food. Terezi and Karkat had already eaten, so Terezi focused on socializing and making a nuisance of herself as usual.

The meal was full of shouts and conversations with the occasional papping and grimacing. The trolls had acclimatized to each other, adopting the "Just Let it Go" policy. It was surprising, but besides her usual crap, even Vriska was rather nice in her obnoxious, mean way. The only true fueding going on was between kismesises, such as the flying insults being swapped by Vriska and Aradia and Sollux and Eridan. By the end of the hour, the fighting had subsided to a low grumbling and most were paired up with their moirails and matesprits, talking about any old subject. Terezi was pretty proud how cooperative everyone was.

When everyone was finished, they seperated into groups. Gamzee dragged both Karkat and Tavros off to go "motherfucking chill," Feferi convinced Sollux to go somewhere that was probably ocean-related with a sulky Eridan in tow, Aradia disappeared with Equius to enjoy some "time shenanigans," and a final group of Terezi, Nepeta, Vriska, and Kanaya went into the woods to investigate, explore, and hunt some huge wild lusus.

It was a pretty typical day, and Vriska got a chance to use her mind control to make Karkat slap himself and say "I'm a pretty girl." (Far away on the cliff Gamzee had dragged Tavros and Karkat off to, he cursed Vriska and promised to gouge out her eyes while she was sleeping.) Besides that incident, and the fact that Equius and Aradia actually spent their entire day millions of years in the past, it was pretty uneventful.

Then the sun began to peek onto the horizon and they returned home. They ate dinner with the same hubbub of breakfast and the subject of Aranea and dream bubbles was finally addressed.

"Imagine it. Mindfang. After I meet her I'll be eight times as great as before, because she'll be telling me all of her secrets. Aaaaaaaall of them," Vriska gushed, an almost murderous glint in her eyes.

"Can't believe you guys are excited over this bullshit," Karkat growled, instantly in a worse mood now that the ancestors had been mentioned.

Vriska turned her head so fast to glare at their leader, Tavros was hit in the face with her huge amounts of hair. Before she could say something stupid, Feferi piped up. "Not all of our ancestors are as great as yours, Vriska. I mean, look at the Condesce. She's terribubble!"

"Kar can't use that excuse," Eridan said. "The Sufferer wwas a hero or somethin'."

"Yeah, what's your problem?" Vriska hissed.

Karkat slammed his fist down on the table. "It's just a bad idea, okay? It's a fucking bad idea and I'm not going to be the idiot nooksniffer who regrets going along with it. I'm not going to talk with that suffering asshole, and I can't think of one reason why any of you would want to meet your own ancestors." He pushed away from the table and stomped upstairs. Terezi sighed and followed him, rubbing the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

"I don't see a reason why my motherfucking best friend can't up and have his own good opinion," Gamzee drawled, picking at the edges of his face paint.

"Me, either," Nepeta proclaimed loudly. She stood, her hands on her hips. "I think it's pawsitively stupid of anyone to criticize Karkitty because of what he thinks." She stared at Equius, waiting for his agreement.

He sighed and nodded. "I suppose you are correct Nepeta, although I do not have any knowledge of an altercation that would create such a negative opinion."

It fell silent in the room. Nepeta excused herself and locked herself in her respiteblock. Equius gave Aradia a pleading look and then went after her, standing outside her door for the next half hour attempting to console the cat girl. Aradia was next to leave, muttering that was she had to sleep early so she could help Aranea with the dream bubbles. The remaining six trolls participated in some tension-filled small talk before heading to bed themselves.

That night it was much easier for Aranea to gather the twelve trolls. There was some obvious dissent in their ranks, but she tried not to let it worry her. When they were quiet, she began speaking. "Hello everyone. It's nice to see you again. Not all of you might agree to this plan about meeting your forebearers, but I assure you, it is quite the experience! They are rather interesting." Catching sight of a scowl in the crowd, she cleared her throat and continued. "Um, well Aradia cannot move all of the dream bubbles at once. She said that the maximum she could move tonight would be three, so who would like to meet their ancestor tonight?"

All but Aradia, Karkat, Equius, Gamzee, and Feferi raised their hands. When Nepeta gave Equius a confused look, he shrugged and said he would rather wait another night.

Aranea nodded. "That's seven. Would anyone be willing to wait another night?"

"I would," Kanaya spoke up with Sollux quickly agreeing.

"Down to five. There are only three spots," Aranea reminded.

"I, uh-" Tavros was interrupted when Vriska slid her hand over his mouth.

"Tavros, you need the confidence boost. I'm not letting you skip out if it means I'll have to spend another day with your stuttering mess of a personality," she told him.

"Perhaps." Aranea paused and examined the remaining five. "Perhaps Vriska and Eridan should wait until tomorrow night. You two basically already know your ancestors, especially you Vriska. It would be nice of you to give the others a chance."

Eridan opened his mouth to complain, but was silenced by a barbed glance from both Sollux and Feferi. Vriska, however, was not affected by glares and blurted, "I guess that makes sense. I mean, I can be nice enough and take pity on these other losers, but what about Terezi? She knows just as much about Redglare as me and Eridan know about Dualscar and Mindfang."

Terezi laughed and pointed her cane at Vriska's face. "Not really. All I know is she was a legislacerator, hunted Mindfang, and that Mindfang killed her." Behind her glasses, her eyes narrowed at the last fact.

Vriska sneered. "Fine. Take Toreasnore and the others. I don't care."

"Excellent! Aradia?"

Aradia disappeared and about five minutes later, reappeared. "Everything is ready."

Aranea gathered Nepeta, Terezi, and Tavros and led them to the edge of the dream bubble, a few moments away from their respective ancestors. "Are you ready?"

They all nodded and Aradia took them away. When she was gone, Aranea grinned at the remaining eight trolls. "Isn't this exciting?"

"Yeah," Karkat said sarcastically. "It's fucking riveting. Can I go now?"


	5. Part 4: Pawsitively Purrfect

**A/N:**** We've finally made it to the ancestors! For some reason it was very easy to write as the Disciple and Nepeta. In the ancestor sections it will be told from the ancestors POV to avoid that burdensome "the Disciple, the Disciple, the Disciple" every other sentence. This is actually quite a bit longer than other chapters.**

**I made up a few troll seasons. The "darkening season" is autumn and the "brightening season" is spring.**

**Enjoy! And if you're confused by anything I say, don't be afraid to ask. :)**

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Part 4: Pawsitively Purrfect

You are elbow-deep in your cave scrawlings and paint is literally smeared across every scrap of cloth, exposed skin, and square inch of hair. Nowadays you usually look quite frightening since you never brush your hair or clean the blood from your clothes, but with the red, blue, green, and yellow paint plastered everywhere, you must look an especially terrifying sight! You are illustrating a picture of yourself, your dear Sufferer, the gruff Psiioniic, and the generous Dolorosa. Your memory isn't the best these days, so you're drawing one of the sharpest of those elusive memories.

As you paint, you talk out loud to yourself, acting as if Suffy is kneeling beside you, watching you in adoration as he so often used to do. "On my fourteenth wriggling day, we went to my old forest where I had spent my younger sweeps before I met you. It was a beautiful darkening season day and the golden brown leaves were drifting down all around us. It was fairly bright out since we were venturing out as the sun was setting. We kept our backs to the sun just in case it would burn us." With a flourished sweep, you spread your fingers that were smeared in yellow across the scene, stopping at the four figures to indicate the bright sunlight.

"When we had woken up that morning, you promised that today would be special, because it would be a day free of worries. I was happy when you put on the coat I made you - Suffy, you know, the one with almost every sign on the entire hemospectrum stitched into it? I really do love that coat. It goes to show that it doesn't matter that you weren't born with a sign. There are so many, you could pick any old symbol and would never find another troll with the same! I know you hate it when I say things like that, but it's the truth." You giggle and smudge multi-colored dots onto the Sufferer's coat in the picture.

"Anyways, we left that morning for the forest after rousing Psii and your mother. We were bundled up against the chill and sunlight and we picnicked out on the grass. Psii created amazing pictures with psionics in the sky. He said that his energies were actually so far up, trolls for miles around could see the pictures he was creating. The entire night you indulged me in playing my silly games. We challenged Psii to spar without using his psionics and you wrecked him with your sickles. You accidentally slammed him so hard into a tree, a huge piece of bark stuck onto his horns." You continue to laugh and grin, coloring the sky blue and red and mixing colors together to create a brown plank on Psii's horns.

"I don't . . . I don't remember all of that day, but I know it was among the best I ever had. When the games were over, we built a fire and you told us stories. Suffy, you're so talented at storytelling. When you speak, it is as if your words are a song, a sweet melody. Don't be embarrassed, be proud! It's one of the endless reasons why I love you. When the end of the night came and my wriggling day was nearly over, you announced something." After adding a small song note beside your Sufferer's head and a fire, you cradled your chin in your hands and finished the story.

"You said that you had finally gained the support you needed and planned on ransacking the Grand Highblood's castle. We were speechless for a moment, then rejoiced with you. It had been something we had been aspiring to for sweeps. This was going to be the start of a grand revolution much more lifechanging than our peaceful attempts. We all knew the risks, yet . . ." You stared at your picture, searching the inanimate red eyes of the Sufferer. "We thought it would be worth it.

"Six seasons later, they captured us."

Tears welled up in your eyes. "Suffy, I don't want to remember those days when you were tortured. They forced us to watch, wouldn't allow us to block our ears or avert our gazes. I wished those days were blurred in my memory, if not wiped completely away. Instead, they're the sharpest of any I can find. Every drop of blood, every wound, and how your wrists were a ruined, charred mess. On top of everything, I can remember that executor who murdered you. I can remember his face more clearly than your own! How cruel is that?" The droplets slid silently from your eyes, sliding over your lips. You did not sob; you had sobbed too many times already.

"Sufferer, if you continue to live somewhere in another universe, I want you to know I still love you. Every day. I dream of you every night. Even the horrorterrors respect our love, because they have never haunted my dreams. However, you do."

You are silent. So silent and still, that when a hand touches your shoulder, you yowl and jump two feet into the air, baring your fangs. Then you catch sight of the short black hair, the short, sharp horns, and the olive green symbol on a black shirt. You recognize yourself in the large yellow eyes. Instantly, you calm. You don't smile. After thinking such depressing thoughts, you are not ready to.

From her expression, she heard everything. She braves a small smile. "The way you talk about him reminds me of Karkat," she says softly, pointing a finger at your drawing of the Sufferer.

"His descendant." You are confident in your answer, although you have no evidence. Your love transcended definition. To you, it makes sense that it would not be destroyed by a mere few centuries and another pair of bodies.

"Yeah," the girl confirmed quietly.

From the sadness in her voice, you had to ask. "Has something happened to him? Has he . . ." Your vision blurs again as you contemplate the idea of this descendant's death. Can't the world leave him alone, let his soul have peace?

"No." She looks up from the illustration and draws her hands together to form a heart. "He's not dead. Actually, he has saved me and many of our friends over and over again. I was dead and he sacrificed part of himself to resurrect me. I love him so much, but . . ." She breaks her fingers apart, splitting the heart in two. "He doesn't love me. He is constantly annoyed at me, ignores me, and probably the only reason he knows my name is because of Terezi. She's his matesprit."

Your heart suffers another blow and you gesture for the girl to come closer. You are slightly taller than her and wrap your strong arms around her. You aren't sure what to say, so you hold her close and attempt to comfort her without words. You imagine a world where your Sufferer was there, yet didn't love you. It wounds you to consider it. You're not sure if you could handle it. This descendant of yours must be strong, because there is still kindness and light in her eyes although she is stuck in a love that cannot be. "What is your name, girl?"

"Nepeta Leijon."

"I am the Disciple."

"Do you have a real name?"

You pause. "I'm sure I do, but I cannot remember it. I have been called the Disciple ever since I met the Sufferer. Once he died, I didn't want to remember any other name. He will be the only troll who knows my name, not even myself." You manage a fragile laugh. Nepeta doesn't join you. She pulls away and begins to examine your drawings and reading the sermons you had recorded. (You had all of them except his final sermon, which still hurt too much to write.)

Nepeta stops at the drawing of your Sufferer's bonds when he was tortured. She ran her fingers along the lines and murmured, "This is Karkat's sign. He's always so protective over his blood color, but none of us care and there's no one else to cull him."

You are confused by that statement, but you decide not to pry. You would forget the information if she gave it to you. Instead you inquire, "Terezi. Who is her ancestor?"

Nepeta continued to wander the cave as she answered. "Neophyte Redglare. She was a legislacerator that captured Mindfang."

You remember that debacle vaguely. That legislacerator ended up dead, not Mindfang. "Does he have a moirail? Do you?" You are smart enough not to ask about a matesprit. It is obvious she does not have someone else besides him.

Eventually, she stops wandering and sits. You quirk your eyebrow, then sit across from her. "He has a moirail and so do I. His moirail is named Gamzee. He is the Grand Highblood's descendant." Before you can hiss and spring up, she hurries on. "He's a good person. He's nice and does his best to help his friends, except when he doesn't eat sopor. When that happens, he goes into a rage. That's why Karkat is his moirail; he's the only one who can calm Gamzee out of a rampage. It sounds horrible, but he really is a nice guy."

Despite your sour expression, you try to believe her words. "Your moirail?"

The extreme shift in her emotions causes a smile to spread onto your face. A moment ago, she was sorrowful. Now, she is bursting with life and happiness. "My moirail is Equius. He is the best troll you could ever meet. He protects his friends and is very _strong_." She flexes her arm and giggles. "He doesn't show it much, but he is sweet and kind and he would do anything to help me. I make sure he's not too gruff or violent, and he makes sure I don't make any silly mistakes. His ancestor is the E%ecutor Darkleer."

Your grin vanishes and your blood runs cold.

"What's wrong, Disciple?"

You stand and walk away. "He killed my Sufferer." Behind you, there is a sharp intake of breath. "He took pity on me and allowed me to live. He is the cruelest creature that ever walked the face of the Earth."

A shuffling and you can hear Nepeta following you. "Equius isn't like that! He died protecting his friends!"

You exit the cave and the forest around you is in the darkening season. It reminds you painfully of your fourteenth wriggling day. "Any troll with his murderous blue blood flowing through their veins is someone that shouldn't be allowed to live," you growl, scoring a nearby tree with your claws.

"He is a kind troll," Nepeta insists. "Cruel trolls don't help their friends or have moirails or have matesprits. If it wasn't for Equius, Karkat wouldn't be able to walk and a million other things would have gone wrong. He's not a saint but I know worse."

You hold your ears, blocking her out as best you can. It isn't working. The words are sinking in, and you're ignoring them as best you can. Except, what if she's right? What if he is not what you're convinced he is?

"Maybe you could meet him," she suggests. "We can drop the subject and when you see him, you can make your own judgement." Abruptly, you stop. She mewls in surprise and shuffles around to face you. "Deal?"

You grimace and hug her. "Deal," you whisper into her ear.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she squealed, clutching you.

Laughing, you disentangle yourself from her and point at the surrounding trees. "I bet I can bring down a lusus faster than you, runt." You wink to let her know you meant nothing by the insult.

She drops into a ready crouch and bares her fangs. "Bring it on. This is a game I am _paws_itive to win!"

In a flurry of coats and appendages, you're both off. Worries forgotten, you lose yourself in the hunt. Purrhaps this is what you need. You miss Suffy so entirely that it feels like your heart has been ripped apart, but with a companion in this dark place it might be more bearable.

* * *

"You know, me and Suffy wanted to raise a grub."

"Really?"

You nodded, wiping your mouth and accidentally smearing the brown and teal blood from your hands onto your face. You and Nepeta had spent the last hour or so lurking the forest, racing through the different seasons, and stalking the wild lusus that roved there. You had caught a stocky howlbeast lusus and your companion had caught an unnaturally large wingbeast lusus. Although the wingbeast had been a brown blood, that did not take away from its juicyness and you reluctantly crowned her the winner of the hunt.

After eating the meat of both creatures raw, both of you were covered in blood. You disposed of the remaining meat, stored some feathers from the wingbeast to commemorate this day, and headed down to the stream to clean. You didn't do this often because you never had anyone around and for once, the drying blood began to irritate your skin.

The conversation flowed smoothly. You broke it for a moment to bend down and dip your entire head into the water. You scrubbed your face under the surface and also washed out your hair. It was as matted as always but at least the paint and other debris was out. With a dramatic motion, you straightened and flipped your mane of hair to flop wetly against your back and shoulders.

"Why would you want to raise a grub? That sounds so weird." Nepeta scrunched her face up in confusion. She had shed her large coat to wash her arms, her face already clean.

"I know," you agreed. Leaning over the bank, you wrung out your hair until all the excess water had fallen. "But Suffy was raised by the Dolorosa. The stories of his childhood with the Dolorosa were so joyful and contented. When I told him about my lusus or when Psii admitted that his lusus had been a complete idiot, he was disappointed. He said that being raised by another troll was so much more fulfilling, like there was someone he could rely on whenever he needed help. Lusus never act that way. They rely on you more than you rely on them."

The girl nodded attentively as you paused to swallow a gulp of streamwater to wash your mouth out. "When he told those stories, I began dreaming about a world where I had a mother or a father. Purrhaps both! Me and Suffy figured, why not? We could do it. It would be tricky, but if we could sneak into the Mother Grub's chamber and steal a grub, we could do exactly what the Dolorosa had done. She could give advice to us, too, so we would know what to do!"

"Were you able to?"

"No." You sighed deeply and tilted your head back to stare at the sky. "We began planning a perigree or two before my fourteenth wriggling day, and then it wasn't long after we were captured. If we had been able to though, we were planning on finding an indigo blood." Your smile returned at the memory of those conversations. "We decided that if we could raise an indigo with our mindset, we could overthrow the caste system easier. We could use him or her to become the new Grand Highblood and influence every landdweller on Alternia. If we couldn't find an indigo, we would've had an olive blood or maybe a rare caste like lime or another mutant such as him."

You waited patiently for Nepeta to berate you for such a moronic notion. Others, such as the Psiioniic and countless friends had tried to convince you it was idiotic. The Dolorosa supported you of course, but she was the only encouraging voice in a sea of insults and negativity. It had never deterred you and you were used to it. You couldn't dislike them for disagreeing. It was an outlandish, un-heard of idea.

It was surprising when Nepeta didn't call you a numbskull. More surprising: she_ supported _it. "It sounds sort of exciting. My friends and I know these aliens called humans and that's how they raise their grubs. Actually, they don't have a Mother Grub. It's just two humans who combine their genetic materials together to make a grub that's related to them. Like . . ." She began gesturing helplessly in the air, attempting to explain it. "The two humans make up both halves of the grub's genetics and no one outside their 'family' has any genetic match to them at all!"

Nepeta blushed because your eyes on her are wide and enthralled, begging silently for more information. "The two humans," she continued, "raise the grub by themselves until it gets old enough. Then it leaves their care to live its own life, but it stays in touch with their parents like they're all moirails or something! I thought it was really strange, except when I consider it, it sounds nice. Like, what if instead of centures between descendants and ancestors, there was fifteen sweeps? What if you had raised me and the Sufferer had raised Karkat? It's so mind-boggling to think out, but at the same time so . . ."

"Amazing," you finish. You can't help pouncing on her, hugging her so tightly she probably couldn't breathe. When you were finished squeezing the life out of her, you grabbed her hand and began leading her deeper into the woods, watching the subtle signs until you wound up in the brightening season part of the forest. From there it was easy to locate the tiny cottage that you and Suffy had used as a hide-out when there were more trolls out for his blood than supporting his cause. It was a somewhat painful memory, but you stepped into the cottage nonetheless, and strode into the main living space. You sat in a chair and gestured for Nepeta to take a seat anywhere. When you were both comfortable, you leaned forward to hold her hands in yours.

"Aranea says I'm living in a dream bubble. My eyes are white, which means I'm dead. I don't want to pry or anything, but are you dead as well? Because your eyes are there, even with the olive irises I used to have."

She shook her head. "Nope, I'm not dead. I do have a dream bubble though, which is why I can visit you here. Aranea and my friend Aradia can help you move out of your bubble so you can meet others, but I think she said ancestors like you can't exit your bubbles for some reason." She frowned and you are absolutely crestfallen at this news, though you're certain that Aranea had told you that before.

Nepeta tilted her head to the side. "Also, don't you remember saying that Karkat revived me? I would have to be alive." she asked, jumping back onto a safer topic for a minute.

"Oh." You blushed a little. "I have a horrible memory."

She giggled. "That's fine. Um, why did you ask about being dead in the first place?"

You repressed a grimace and tried to answer honestly. "I suppose I sort of remember Aranea telling me about how I couldn't leave this bubble. I was under the im_purr_ession that only those who were dead could visit me though. That's why I inquired. Also, did you say earlier that you wanted Darkleer's descendant to meet me?" You frowned at the mention of Equius and Darkleer. Despite everything Nepeta said, the idea of Darkleer made your skin crawl.

"Yes," she purred, glad you remembered.

"Well. I . . . I was wondering . . ." You bit your lip, accidentally drawing blood. You giggled and swiped the blood away, and was less hesitant as you finished your thought. "I was wondering if I could meet some of the other descendants or my Sufferer again. I know he can't leave his bubble, nor can I leave mine, but is there any method to combine them? Even for a short while. For half a second. I'll take a single milli-second! My memory is so shot, and the idea of seeing him again is just . . ." You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself. "It would be better than having a chance to live once again."

Nepeta smiled gently. "To be honest, I don't know anything about these bubbles and stuff. It must pawful to be seperated from him. I'll ask Aradia and Aranea. If there's any way to do that, they would know."

You breathed a sigh of relief and allowed a small seed of hope to grow in your lonely heart. Nepeta was not someone who lie. She would do as she said. She would do everything to reunite you and your Sufferer. The very notion caused tears to leap into your oculars. You thanked her again and again and again until you were green in the face and her blush was so deep it was nearly a jade coloration.

By your own will, you suggested that you changed subjects. She informed you that there probably was a couple hours left, so you both relaxed and told stories and also going into discussions about aspects of life and such. She described to you her friends and the humans she had mentioned earlier. She hinted that they had played a game, but the tale was so long and complicated and headache-inducing that she never wished to re-tell it.

In return, you spoke of your Sufferer's revolution, your first meeting with him, and also talked of the Psiioniic and the Dolorosa. There were so many things to say and so little time to say it in, and eventually the segments of Nepeta's topics dwindled to nothing as she sat, entranced, as you spoke. You rambled on and on about Suffy and how loved him so, so much. You talked of his funny mannerisms and how he was gentle and kind, although he did have an angry, vemonous side. Besides Suffy, you described the various followers you four collected on your travels, the great many exotic places you visited, and . . . It was amazing. There was an endless amount of things to say.

Eventually, you quit trying to remember what you had already told her about and began spewing out whatever came to mind, even the most mundane things such as the fragility of a flutterwing or how lusus fur was so abnormally white.

It was peaceful. And it was nice to speak to someone who was actually there, instead of a mirage that your mind projected. You were too disappointed for words when Aranea popped her head into the cottage and reluctantly announced that it was the end of the night and Nepeta needed to leave.

"Please say you'll return!" you insisted, squeezing your descendant as tightly as you could manage. You giggled at her wheeze and loosened your iron grip.

"Of course I will." She reciprocated your hug just as fiercely. "I don't know you that well, Disciple, but I already love you. It's weird - almost like a moirail but not. You know?"

You nodded vigorously. "Today was pawsitively purrfect. I can't wait until whenever you can return. I'll be counting the days. Well, I would if I knew how long a day here was." Another flurry of giggles.

It was too soon when she embarked with Aranea. You were left with a heart both heavier with loneliness and lighter with the knowledge you had another friend and that maybe.

Just maybe.

You could see the Sufferer again.

And that was worth all of those sweeps of isolation.


	6. 5: i cAN'T fORGIVE, aND i cAN'T fORGET

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the wait! I had writer's block for both the Summoner & Redglare. I've been working on other parts of the fic, but their parts completely stumped me. However, I am really glad that so many people are supporting this and it really does keep me motivated. :)**

**The title is completely inverted because if Tavros wrote, "I Can't Forgive, and I Can't Forget" then you would get what you see above/below.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Part 5: i cAN'T fORGIVE, aND i cAN'T fORGET

This might come off as immature and stupid of you, but the first thing that occurred to you when you laid eyes on him was: _His horns are bigger than mine! _You meant they're bigger than when you were eight sweeps old - that was the age Aranea had mentioned right? You were envious for a moment and then was overcome with a bout of laughter.

Poor whatever-his-name-is! He was going to have horns _bigger_ than yours! The sheer outward spreading of your horns was as long as your entire body, meaning that if you wanted to walk through a doorway front ways, then you should also be able to fit through it horizontally - minus the horns - as well. (Heh, that description made no sense. Oh well, you've never been one for words.)

You were laughing so hard at this revelation, you didn't notice your descendant's discomfort or the tears in his eyes until you had recovered. You instantly regretted what you had done and hurried to comfort him. "Oh man, sorry kid, I wasn't laughing at you. Sorry, sorry, I am just really stupid sometimes and I realized that-" When you felt the amusement bubble in your chest again, you stopped yourself. "Hey um, I didn't mean anything by it."

Mentally, you were scolding yourself. Admittedly, you were always hard on yourself, but you had blundered big time here.

The kid was blushing furiously as he brushed the tears away. "S-sorry, if I did something, um, wrong," he stuttered, his gaze averted in shame.

"Nah, you didn't. I'm a doofus, that's all," you said hurriedly, waving your hands as if that would help your case. Great, he probably thought you were a raving lunatic.

There was silence. Not the companionable silence you had with the animals or the peaceful silence of mutual contemplation. It was the thick, tension-filled silence and both of you were not handling it well. He was blushing consistently and doing everything to avoid your eyes locking and you were staring at him, restlessly moving your limbs and fluttering your wings. It was extremely awkward and you were on the verge of absconding to a cave and lecturing yourself about how much of an idiot you were.

_Well, isn't this a pretty little mess you've got here, Summy?_ The coy female voice in your head was familiar, almost comforting, but you were in no mood for smarminess and self-deprecation. You needed to step up.

You cleared your throat. Your descendant's eyes flicked to you for a moment before immediately jumping to another object. After sighing, you patted the kid's shoulder. "Hey, so what's your name?"

_Laaaaaaaame_, chimed the voice, giggling.

"Tavros N-Nitram," he murmured, barely a whisper.

Encouraged, you grinned. "Nice to meet you, Tavros. I'm the Summoner."

You stuck your hand out for him to shake, placing it close enough so he could see it without looking up. A bit of the tension drained from the atmosphere as he timidly placed his clammy palm against yours. "I . . . I, um, know who you are," Tavros told you quietly. He seemed to pluck up enough courage to look up.

It was sort of amusing, because he reminded you a lot of yourself. (_Duh, that's 8ecause he is you. 8asically_.)Except far more nervous. You don't remember ever being as timid and cowardly as the troll you are faced with. You wonder if that's because of out-lying circumstances or if you're truly different. Either way, you are determined to earn his trust.

"You do?" you asked, attempting to lure Tavros into speaking more.

He nodded. "Yes. Aranea told us all, uh, all about you guys." He tilted his head and his brows furrowed. "She didn't . . . she d-didn't tell us how you looked."

You mock gasped and flattened a hand against your chest dramatically. "Am I hideous?" you joked, pretending to be scandalized.

The tentative smile you earned deserved a celebration. "Um, no. A-at least, I don't think so." He chuckled and blushed again. It was actually rather endearing and adorable. (_Aw, yours was too, Summy_.) "I just didn't expect you . . . You look just like . . ."

"Just like . . . ?"

"Rufio," he finished, examining your face closely.

"Rufio?" you echoed uncertainly, suddenly very confused.

He froze and his eager expression turned horrified. "Ignore that," he pleaded, holding his hands up as if trying to ward you off. "I-I-I promised Vriska I wouldn't talk about, uh, about Rufio. I'm, I'm just really stupid and you just look so much like how I thought he would be, and . . ." His eyes widened, even more mortified. "I'm . . . I'm . . . going to stop, uh, t-talking, because . . . I, uh . . ." Then he shut his mouth and stared down, arms hugging each other.

_Come on, don't let him drop the subject. He was getting flustered like you get sometimes and it was cute. Plus, I want to know who this Rufio guy is_.

This was why she was your inner voice; she knew exactly what to do, no matter what the situation. You tried to smile reassuringly at Tavros, despite him not being able to see it. "This Rufio person isn't a bad person, is it? I couldn't see why you wouldn't promise not to talk about him. I'd like to know who I'm so similiar to." You squeezed his shoulder, hoping that helped, too.

That did the trick. Tavros nodded and raised his gaze again. He balked at seeing you straight on and began to fidget. "Uh." He left it at that for a minute, before taking a deep breath and blurting out everything else. "Rufio is an imaginary person who represents my self-confidence and he looks a lot like you except he, uh, he didn't have your horns." He slowed down, a horrified expression on his face.

_Wow, did you understand any of that? I sure didn't._

"Er . . ." You raised an eyebrow at the kid. "He's imaginary?"

The horrified turned mortified and the blush returned. "Y-y-yes. I, uh, tried to, to tell you it was stupid."

Despite your confusion and the slightly weird aspect that this guy - or whatever Rufio was - looked like you, you shrugged it off and replied with confidence. "That's nothing to worry about kid. I used to make up friends when I was little, too."

The expression lightened slightly. Hopeful, yet weary. "You did?"

"Yeah, sure I did," you reassured him. "After all, me and my lusus lived out in the middle of nowhere in a hundred foot tall hive. I had to entertainment myself for the most part."

He continued to brightened up, a small spark of curiosity spreading across his face. "H-hundred foot tall? It was, uh, that big?"

You shrugged. "Well, it wasn't big. It was thin, with a room or two on every floor, and an aerial landing pad on every other level so Bull and I didn't have to walk up so many stairs."

His eye eyebrows suddenly furrowed together. "Wait, fly? Uh, how long have you, had your, um, wings?"

You were definitely smiling now, wide and toothy. You restrained it enough to put on a mock disappointed face and reached forward to pat his shoulder. "Oh c'mon Tavros, you let me down. How could my own flesh and blood not know these basic facts about me?"

_Look at that, you're getting all custodian-al and putting on your charm. He's grinning like a chump. I would compliment your acting, but I know you're alwaaaaaays sincere, aren't you?_

Ignoring the playful barb, you realized she was right; grinning like a chump, wide and toothy.

_Sort of like you, actually._

Yeah. If he had more hair than that fluffy mohawk, squared his jaw, and warped his features a bit, you would have yourself staring back at you with a shy yet exuberant grin. In any other situation, that would unnerve you something awful. Instead, it was heartwarming and a fondness for your descendant began to grow in the back of your thinkpan.

You slung an arm over his shoulder, his horn against your back, and gestured around you, dragging him in a circle to survey your surroundings. "You see all this, kid? This is the place I grew up." You began strolling forward, shuffling through the thigh-high grass with ease. "A huge grassland filled swaying golden stalks with plenty of room to walk, run, explore, fight, play, and . . ." Within in a moment you were behind him, snagging his waist and holding tight. You flapped twice and you were airborne, soaring twenty, thirty feet off the ground and gaining altitude by the second. Tavros yelped and clung to your arm. "And lots of room to fly!" you finished, gliding towards a nearby needle-like structure. "So yeah, to answer your question, I've had my wings since pupation."

_You pro8a8ly should've warned him that you were going to do that._

Probably.

The construct wasn't far. The moments it took to fly there were spent in silence. He was stiff and unresponsive except for the fierce grip on your arm. It worried you. Had you scared him too much? When you touched down on the aerial landing pad, you released him and moved to peer at him. "Hey, you alright?"

Eyes wide, arms clutching his sides, he nodded slowly. "I'm fine. I've, flown before." At your surprised stare, he smiled. "I, uh, just wasn't . . . expecting that." He shuffled to the edge of the landing. "W-wow, we are . . ." He gulped. "Really high up. Guess it's, uh, been a while."

You chuckled and shoved your hands in your pockets. "Man, this is nothing. I can go hundreds and hundreds of feet up. Don't feel bad about being scared or nothing. I've been doing this since I was a wriggler."

Tavros's grin fell and he took a step away from the edge. "Yeah," he said uncertainly, as if he didn't know the right words to speak.

"Uh . . ." Oh great, he had _you_ awkward and hesitant now.

_Is it me or does he need a confidence 8oost?_

Uh-huh.

_Soooooooo, why don't you find out what Mr. 8ashful's problem is?_

Yeah, that sounded like a good place to start.

"I didn't frighten you, did I?"

He frowned. "Not really. It was, uh, a surprise, but not that, scary."

Well there went that theory. What else could it be? You resisted the urge to tilt your head at him (the last time you did that, your horns' weight knocked you off balance and you fell) and continued to question him. "Something's bothering you. Spit it out." If ordering is an equivalent to asking questions, that is exactly what you were doing.

He shuffled around a bit more, stalling before he had to answer. He refused to meet your gaze and stared at the swaying grass below. It took him a full minute and a half to begin. "I wasn't expecting . . . this."

You opened your mouth to interrupt and your inner voice spat, _No, let him finish._

Another five minutes passed before he spoke again and you were on the absolute edge of your seat, anxious as hell to find out what could be bothering him this much. "I," he faltered and sighed. "I thought, you were going to . . . be mean, or horrible, or, uh, this really tough guy that, you don't want to mess with. I wasn't . . . expecting this. Because you're, nice, and you're actually sort of, um, concerned. I, I thought you would, take one l-look at me and, say . . . say 'go away, you're a disgrace'. I don't, know how to . . . How do, you handle this?"

Silence.

_Hey, speak up! That wasn't a rhetorical question!_

"What's 'this' exactly?" you asked tentatively.

He clasped his hands together and shrugged. "I . . . I don't, know. Someone being . . . uh, nice?

_Oh wow, that's sad. He doesn't know how to handle nicety? Poor sap._

As if sensing your incredulity without seeing it, he sighed again. "My, uh, friends, aren't really the most, kind. I mean, Vriska's sort of pushy and mean. Karkat and Sollux yell a lot, and Eridan makes, fun of me. Kanaya and, Terezi are nice, I guess, but they're freaky, also? Equius is still sort of mean to me and calls me a lowblood sometimes. I mean . . ." Tavros growled and facepalmed. "I mean!"

He was struggling for the words, beating himself up over it. It hurt you to see this. The voice inside your thinkpan attempted to soothe you, but it wasn't working. How could he have ended up so lonely? So isolated? He reminded you of an animal with a broken limb, left behind by its pack members.

"I mean . . ." He dragged the hand he facepalmed down roughly. "I was never, someone's top priority. Nepeta and Aradia have more important trolls in their life, I don't know Feferi all that well, and Gamzee's, Gamzee's, been avoiding me ever since I turned him down . . . I, uh, blend into the background. I don't, matter." Then he pointed at you uncertainly. "So, why did you, ask me . . . what was wrong? I mean, uh, you shouldn't care."

You stared at him in disbelief. Slowly, you raised your hand to point back at him. "Why wouldn't I ask? It's not as if I have any company 'sides Mindfang." As soon as the words left your throat, you were cursing mentally.

_Summy, you realize I'm not real, right? I'm a figment of your imagin8ion. I don't exist. You killed the real Mindfang._

You are a lunatic. Maybe he didn't notice.

Yeah, no. Tavros is definitely looking at you funny, and you have a feeling that you will have to explain. Dammit, you were determined to keep this a secret. You hadn't wanted him to know you were a loon who talked to a dead person in his head - and took her advice, no less!

The persistent awkwardness returned as you floundered silently. Eventually, you took the easy out, though Mindfang's accusations of being a yellow-bellied, gutless coward protested against it. "Er, can't we talk about that later? We weren't talking about . . . that. We were talking about you and why I give a fuck about your well being! Let's, eh, talk about that."

The awkwardness was not subsiding. He kept staring at you with those wide, confused eyes flecked with copper.

You did what any troll would do: you began babbling. "I've been here for a long time, you know. There's not a lot to do besides fly around and talk to animals and stuff like that. Aranea has visited for a few months, but it's been sweeps and sweeps and sweeps and sweeps and _sweeps _until she arrived! It's been pretty lonely, although I love my animals and they're always fun to play with. I sort of got lonely, and began feeling guilty. Guilty about . . . You know what? That doesn't matter! Haha! So, uh, yeah if someone knew came around - like you - of course I'd be really excited and concerned over your health and wondering how your life is and what your personality and generally not freaking out about anything and oh god I don't even know what I'm saying and I haven't taken a breath since I started this sentence and . . . Um, okay, wow, I just need to shut up. I need to shut my trap and let you talk because you're starting to look even more freaked out and. And. Uh. I'm going to be quiet." You clamped your mouth closed, ceasing the torrent of words bubbling from your windpipe.

You were seriously tempted to take a flying leap off the spire and hide in a cave for a few days. Or weeks. Hey, who would blame you if you stayed there for a few sweeps? No one, that's who, because that was embarrassing.

And oh god, you're still wigging out in your thoughts.

When ten minutes passed and neither of you spoke, you were forced into breaking the silence. "I was being sincere when I said those things about being concerned about you. You're my descendant. Of course I'd be worried over your well-being. Sorry I'm giving you such a shitty first impression. I'm usually not like this."

He nodded in understanding. "Don't worry. I've, uh, seen worse first impressions." You expected him to leave it at that, until his face hardened and he nodded again. "I can, understand why you would want a friend. It's, um, sort of empty here. Sometimes it's easier . . . to pretend." He frowned. "I never knew Mindfang, but Aranea told us she was, your, matesprit. Right?"

You dipped your head. "Yeah, she was."

"She said, you killed her?"

"Yeah," you whispered, the pain and guilt setting in.

"I can tell you, uh, didn't want, to. Or, didn't mean to?"

"Ain't that basically the same reason?"

His gaze was strangely accusatory. "I suppose it could be, both." He shrugged. "I never knew, her. I knew Vriska. She's, uh, Mindfang's descendant. If we're actually related as, closely, as we think, then I can understand, why . . . you would want, to keep her close." He winced. "Was Mindfang hard to deal with?"

You snorted. "If you found 'difficult' in the dictionary, you would find a picture of one Marquise Spinneret Mindfang beside it. She was a handful. Had a good heart, underneath all her bluster. Used to lounge on my horns because she knew it annoyed me." You smiled a little and draped your arms over said horns, remembering the weight of the ex-pirate who once perched on them.

Tavros nodded yet again. "Vriska's like that, too. I know, somewhere, there's good. She's bad, at showing it, but I know it's, there. She's done some, uh, horrible things. I should forget, about her."

"Then you don't, 'cause she's already got you under her control without ever using her mind control magic," you finished for him.

"Exactly," he agreed. "They never understand, me when I try to, explain. They say, 'oh, uh, you just can't dislike what she, does and like her, for the things she doesn't do. It doesn't, work that way.' And I guess they're, right. I should forget about, her . . ."

"But you don't." You lean toward his slightly, raising an eyebrow. "She might do terrible things. Unspeakable things. But underneath that, you see a good troll. The problem is: how do you uncover that potential?"

"It's, uh, nigh impossible."

"You try anyways, because we with the bronze-blood are pretty idiotic."

"And, gullible," he added, his grin growing wider.

"_Very_ gullible."

"So we, try to find that, good troll within."

"Sometimes it works." You brighten, thinking of Mindfang.

"Sometimes, it doesn't work." He dims as a contrast, probably thinking of failed attempts with this Vriska girl.

"Either way, eventually you find out what works. It might take time, but hell, life is pretty long in itself. We've got plenty of time to waste."

"Yeah."

"Yep."

Finally, there was a silence which was not awkward and nerve-racking. As you grinned at each other, there came a mutual understanding. You figured that Tavros might not be that confident, but he was a good kid. Confidence could change and hey, he had told you that you were nearly identical to his imaginary friend, Rufio. _You_ could teach him to be confident. You could be his friend - and he could be your friend, too? That would be cool.

It's kind of sad how desperate for social interaction you are.

"So, you want to see Spite?" you inquired. "And Bull? The others, too?"

He glanced downwards, towards the surface. "Are they your animal friends?"

"Of course," you answered. "What else could possibly be here? If I had troll visitors, I would've introduced you a while ago, and I wouldn't have Mindfang's voice in my head." You tapped your temple for the added effect.

You were relieved that he didn't react when you mentioned that. It was rather embarrassing, not to mention made you look insane. However, as he lost interest in the landscape and began staring at you again, you realized you should not have breathed her name at all.

"Before we, uh, leave, can you answer a question?"

Your primal instincts instructed you to abscond. That would not help the situation, though, so you planted your feet firmly to the platform and replied nonchalantly. "Yeah?"

"Why, if you loved her, did you . . ." He locked up, tense, nervous, and unable to continue.

It didn't matter. You knew what he was asking, and you were fully aware that this would come up at some point. You sighed and gestured to the grassland below. "How about we sit down for this? It's not that long of a story, but I'd like to be comfortable while telling it."

He nodded, and didn't protest when you scooped him up and glided down, taking your dear sweet time. When you landed, you released him and plopped down in the grass, falling onto your back. He sat and after a moment, slowly pointed at your wings. "Doesn't that hurt?"

You settled your hands at the back of your head. "Huh?"

"Doesn't lying on your wings hurt?" He tentatively poked the closest one, as if afraid it would tear.

You laughed and waved a hand at him. "Kid, if these wings were as delicate as real flutterbeast wings, they would have been ripped off in the revolution or be torn to shreds in higher altitudes. They can be pierced, but they're tough and can handle some rough treatment. They've only gotten hurt once and that was when-" You interrupted yourself and closed your eyes. "Let's just say that the Grand Highblood didn't treat me too kindly after my revolution was squashed." Rage boiled in your blood from the mere mention of the vile creature. You would never forgive them. Never.

When he quieted, you took the incentive to begin your tale. "I was a wriggler when I decided I would revolt. The grassland I grew up in was isolated and teeming with life. I never truly knew what the hemospectrum was except for the occasional lessons from my lusus. The beasts I could speak with told me of countless cruelties involving the hemospectrum and the discrimination between blood colors. I learned my life would be limited and most likely terrible as a lowblood. It infuriated me. Over the sweeps, my hatred for the highbloods and the hemospectrum grew until I could barely think of them without shaking with anger.

"The first opportunity I got, I high-tailed it out of there and began gathering followers. I found much support from the lowbloods and . . . it started. I can't explain it much better than that. I, seven and a half sweeps, went into battle. I wasn't really a leader at that point, what with being so young, but I fully intended to be. They utilized my skills every chance they got, be it my communication with squeakbeasts to poison a highblood's meal or my flight to spy on the enemy from afar. On my adventures through the land, Bull, my lusus, was killed. However, I had to keep moving on.

"Sometime after Bull's death, I found a dragon. It was a lusus - I could tell from the pure white scales and apparently its charge had been killed. I named her Spite, because once when I was flying beside her, I called her spiteful, and she instantly perked up. Spite became this figure of death for the highbloods. She would strike fear into their hearts and make the lowbloods rejoice. That dragon probably killed more highbloods than me. She was almost a second lusus, the way she almost always kept close to me." You opened an eye to check on Tavros and he seemed rather confused. "What's up?"

"I was wondering, uh, what this had, to do with Mindfang, is all," he murmured, nearly unintelligible.

You smiled apologetically. "Sorry. Thought I would give you some back story, or answer some questions about my life since we were talking about her."

"Oh, that makes sense. This is interesting, I was just, wondering." He quickly gestured for you to go on.

"Thanks." You gathered your thoughts and started again. "Okay, so I found Spite when I was nine. I was basically the leader now, although an oliveblood technically had that position. He promised that when I turned ten, he would formally step down. Anyway, half-way through my ninth sweep, I was flying with Spite over a town when something came over me. You could say I was being . . .," you paused to raise an eyebrow dramatically, "possessed." After you earned a chuckle from Tavros, you returned to the story.

"I had no control over myself. I was freaking out, because I had never been possessed before. There was never a psychic strong enough to repress my mind. I fought tooth and claw to wiggle out its hold, but this was definitely a strong troll. I was forced to land in a clearing outside the town and there, waiting for me, was a ceruleanblood with long hair, vicious fangs, a blinded eye, and a robotic arm. When I landed, she did the weirdest thing. She released her mental grip on me and grinned.

"I will admit I was so shocked by this reaction I didn't do much. Mostly stared and wondered why the hell a highblood such as her would have orchestrated this. Before I could collect myself, she was beginning the introductions, telling me her name was 'the Marquise Spinneret Mindfang' and that she had been waiting for a very long time to meet me. She told me that she would rebel along with me, and that we would become very close. I was so confused that she wasn't murdering me, all I could do was keep staring. Then she strolled right up, linked arms with me, threw her other arm over my horn, and asked me where camp was. And something about her . . . I couldn't refuse the request. I walked into camp with a blueblood in tow and she was accepted into the revolution openly - after a three-day investigation of her sincerity.

"She became my closest friend and, eventually, my matesprit as well. Spite never trusted her, which made me nervous at first, but she glared at the dragon, too, so I guessed it was mutual, spontaneous hate. Mindfang confessed all the horrible things she'd done before she met me, but I never took it all that seriously. Sometimes in life, you have to do what you have to in order to survive. Also, she was a blueblood. Her lifespan was so long that that part of her life would have been my seventh or eighth sweep age-wise. She was foolish and ready to sake the bloodlust that all higher bloods seem to have. In short, she was the best troll I had ever met, if you discount her past and her arrogance.

"The revolution went on. As promised, on my tenth wriggling day the oliveblood stepped down. I was formally leading the rebellion. Me, Mindfang, Spite, and the army travelled across Alternia, winning and losing battles, and waging war on the highbloods.

"To avoid the drama and the build-up of tension, I'll skip to the punchline. We began losing. It started with Spite's death and spiraled downward from there. In the end, the Grand Highblood's army trapped us in a mountainous region where we had been hiding, and every troll was slaughtered, sans me and Mindfang. We were taken to the Grand Highblood's court and proven guilty.

"It was not an execution. It was not a simple decapitation or noose hanging 'round our necks. We were tortured. For how long, I don't know. It could have been sweeps or it could have been three days. They tore off our horns, splintered them directly at the base. They tore off my wings and gouged out her remaining eye. They inflicted so many wounds, I couldn't possibly list them all in a whole sweep. They restrained her mind powers using other psychics and with Spite gone, there was no creature that I could have called to help us.

"At some point, they gave me my lance and ordered me to kill her. She was so pitiful, so lost and dazed from loss of blood and being completely disoriented without her sight. I made it as painless as I could; struck directly through her heart. It was all I could do for her: the mercy of a swift death. As for me, I'd rather not recount how I died. It wasn't pleasant." You did not tell him in words, but when you traced the long scar on your stomach through your shirt, you might as well have added, "I was gutted like a fucking fish."

Tavros tilted his head at you. "You hate them a lot, don't you?"

"The highbloods? Yeah, I do," you spat, baring your teeth and snarling your words. "They killed me, my matesprit, my lusus, my followers, and they oppress every lowblood that happens to fall below them on the hemospectrum. They are the scum of Alternia. I loathe them more than anything else in the universe, especially the Grand Highblood."

He frowned. "Holding onto hatred . . . doesn't, help, you know. There's nothing, you can do."

"I know," you muttered.

"That doesn't . . . matter, to you."

"Tavros, I will hate them until I cease to exist, which apparently will be never, what with this dream bubble nonsense. They don't_ deserve _to be forgiven."

He bit his lip and looked at the ground. "I . . . I g-guess so."

* * *

After that, the rest of Tavros's visit was spent exploring your dream bubble. It's filled with different types of wilderness, most of it comprised of the grasses of your home and the wilderness and hills you traveled through often. You introduced him to Spite, who was lurking in the woods, and Bull, a large . . . bull with flutterbeast wings that matched yours. There were multiple other animal friends to meet, and it was nice to have someone to share this with.

At some point, Mindfang's voice returned, throwing in her opinion and advising you on your next course of action. You were relieved that she hadn't disappeared forever. You honestly don't know what you would do if you didn't have a reminder that she had existed.

You learned quite a bit about him. You learned - or rather your assumptions were confirmed - that he was shy and had low self-esteem. He owned a lance similiar to yours, and had eleven friends, although he was convinced that none of them were that close to him.

He kept accidentally calling you Rufio. After the third or fourth slip, you chuckled, ruffled his hair, and told him it was fine if he called you that.

While you learned much about him, he was in the dark about you. He inquired, but you dodged the question or steered the conversation to him or the scenery or the animals. He never got frustrated, merely gave you this disappointed look every time you deflected the subject. It was eating you up inside.

You couldn't help it. The past was the past for a reason. Recalling it unnerved you and brought back memories that you would rather forget. Or maybe a more suitable explanation would be that you won't forget because you don't want to the memory of your loathing to fade. That hatred had been a part of you for as long as you had been alive. It was deep-seated in your identity. If you didn't hate them, what would you have in your life? What would be your purpose? To putter around endlessly in a bubble that you could never leave?

The kid didn't understand your struggle. You could help him, but he definitely could not help you.

Later, with an hour or so before Tavros would have to leave, you readdressed his self-esteem. Before you gone off on your Mindfang tangent, he had been demeaning himself, had been saying that he never was important to anybody. He was convinced that no one truly cared about him and had been convinced for so long, that when you showed persistent concern and nicety, he was confused and thrown off. Hopefully, you had knocked the idea that nobody cared out of his thinkpan. Even if it was true that he nobody's top priority, those sorts of ideas are never good for a troll to have.

Despite what he said to the contrary, you knew that someone in that group of friends had to see how great of a kid he was. He was so sweet and kind. His stutter was endearing, not off-putting, and the way he got flustered so easily was cute. At the end of the night - or day, whatever time it was - you were proud to call him your descendant.

You were on the top floor of your hive when Aranea arrived, along with a short troll in a long trench coat. Tavros introduced her as Nepeta, the silly cat troll whose ancestor was the Disciple - whoever that was.

You were sad to say to goodbye to him. Sincerely sad. It was hard not to gush about how you wished he would return as soon as possible. It was hard to see how achingly _lonely_ you were until he arrived.

Instead, you made a request. "Do you think I could meet Vriska?"

You had wanted to say Mindfang. You wanted with every ounce of your soul to see her again, but you knew without Aranea ever having to tell you, that is impossible. Impossible. So maybe you could get the second best thing: her descendant. From Tavros's stories, they seemed so alike. Perhaps, if you couldn't have the original, you could have the knock-off?

He knew this. Slowly, he nodded and patted your shoulder as you had done to him on countless occasions tonight. "I'm, uh, sure we can, figure something out."

It wasn't exactly a yes, yet it made your heart soar with hope. You grinned wider than you have in a long while. "Well, I hope you come back soon. I'll miss you, kid." You gripped his shoulder and he tightened his grip just as forcefully.

"I'll see, you soon," he promised. "Until then?"

"Until then."

He let you go and strolled away, leaving you alone.

You had been a social troll your entire life. Living alone was a harsh blow that you had come to terms with over hundreds of sweeps. It wasn't until Tavros showed up that you realized how cold and empty this afterlife had been, and how perfectly miserable you felt.

You were miserable about everything.

Tavros's visit had reawakened all of those things you were miserable about, including Mindfang, your guilt over her death, your isolation, everything.

Instead of helping you, he had hurt you. Made you realize how pathetic this all was. It wasn't worth existing for.

You wished that when you had died, you hadn't been zapped to some crazy, dream bubble world where the woman you loved could possibly be a few miles away. You wished you had died, and had never come back. Just stopped existing entirely.

With a heavy sigh, you spread your wings and took off.

A flight in the memory clouds might make you feel less shitty.

* * *

**End Note: Yes, the Ancestors are not creative with the nicknames for their matesprits. However, you have to admit that they are adorable - or at least in my opinion.**

**I would like to give you some extra information on the Ancestors, just some extra info. Every Ancestor has a problem, some more obvious and terrible than others. For instance, the Disciple has an obvious problem: her memory (also, she is haunted by the trolls she knew when she was alive). The Summoner, however, has a less subtle problem: his hatred. In order to be healthy, he needs to let go of his hatred for the highbloods.**

**Once the Ancestors have discovered their problem or found a solution, you will see the ending that the Disciple had. However, the Summoner will be a tougher nut to crack.**


End file.
